I have one of my brother, too; same day, same spot. My dad had a thing with Cowboy hats. He had tons of them. My mom had a thing for black & whites. She took tons of them. When Josh's dad died, Josh inherited his WWII pistol and his collection of Cowboy hats. So naturally, I asked my dad for some of his old ones, too. And now, we have a lovely collection of old hats.

They're all dusty and smelly and old and I never, ever thought I'd need to look at them, but I whipped on out today. I learned two things. One: My father has a freakishly small head. Two: I was much cuter at 5, bucktoothed and all.

Wow. I went one whole day without looking at my computer. Excuse me for any typos; I kinda have the shakes a little.

Thanksgiving was super fabulous. Of course, my meat thermometer broke and I broke the Cardinal Rule of turkeys: Never, Ever guess the temperature of your turkey. I think I only overcooked it by 30 minutes or so, but I've made better. It was all super yummy, especially the cheesecake which 1of3 made, and since he's 9 he didn't exactly cut up the ginger right, so it's got little chunks of ginger throughout. YUM, says I.

I meant to take pictures, but I was 40 minutes late getting everything out and had 4 boys and 1 very hungry girl and by the time it hit the table, the carnage had begun. I did get to bust out Josh's parents wedding china

which I took from my mother in law with the sole intent of putting in a box for the next 25 years until my daughter gets married, but it's brutally pretty china and why the heck not, really.

Josh's friend Chris came over and we drank way too much of this

which is totally autographed by the maker and you can't even think about getting that bottle up here in British Columbia, and yes I know I should have saved it for some bigger deal, but we had stayed up until 1am the night before playing Wii and drinking a bottle of Argyle and we were a bit hungover. Whoever figured out that whole drink-what-you-drank-the-night-before bit is a flippin' genius. And that bottle of wine up there? It was like angels peeing on my tongue. Pick one up sometime. You'll be glad you did.

We played so much Wii in at 24 hour span that we all ache. I managed to bowl four strikes in a row and now I feel very geeky smug indeed.

My plan for the next few days is to see how many dishes I can secretly incorporate turkey into before the children stage a coup. I have already been instructed to see to it turkey does not make another lunch box appearance.

Your picture for this week is of my ridiculously cute kid and me at her first Thanksgiving. Perhaps, tomorrow, I wll try to actually post something of substance.

My sister in law called last Thursday to tell me that my nephew had been voted Sophomore Homecoming King at his high school. I got on the phone with him and said, "Great. You're now officially that kid I hated in high school."

He giggled. He doesn't believe that I was unpopular in high school. I was unpopular. Very. To prove it, I offer you this nugget:

I went to my senior Homecoming dance (first dance I ever went to) because I was the photographer. And in the spirit of that, and my nephew's triumphant conquest of the hearts of a couple hundred 15 year olds, this weeks' picture is of me on my way to the senior Homecoming dance.

Please note the major blunder here: My family is Irish. The parts of us that aren't Irish are Scottish and Ukrainian. We have absolutely NO pigment in our skin. I also weighed, perhaps, 90 pounds in this picture. If I was turned slightly more to the right, you wouldn't even be able to see me. So what did I do? I pulled my blond hair up, put on some white hose, added a white dress to that, and hopped in a white car.

This picture is a lot like a picture of a blizzard. Ready?

Thank god the building behind me is green. The front of that dress actually has a sheer little panel with some lovely trim stitched into it, but you can't see it because I'm a freaking albino.

I truly hope you all are enjoying my Wednesday rounds of self-humiliation. I don't know how much longer I can keep doing this to myself.

I'm trying to read more mommy blogs. See, I just don't, really. But I should. I found this one and she'd written a lovely little post about boobies and so OF COURSE I had to sign up to be interviewed. She has boobs. To share.

Here goes:

Leave me a comment saying “Interview me.” I will respond by emailing you five questions. I get to pick the questions. If you don’t have a valid email address on your blog, please provide one. You will update your blog with a post containing your answers to the questions. You will include this explanation and an offer to interview someone else in the same post. When others comment asking to be interviewed, you will ask them five questions.

Interview Questions:1. What do you do to make yourself comfortable enough to fall asleep at night?Oh, the possible ways I could go with this....I suppose I'll take the boring old honest route. I am a tummy sleeper. You can always tell when I'm about to fall asleep because I will roll onto my tummy. Before bed, I have to have a cup of tea. I like to have a cookie, too. I have to have something on top of me (*snicker*) like a blanket or a throw. I cannot ever sleep without a blanket. Also, I have to be totally dressed, and not just in a nightgown or something. I have to be in a SHIRT and BOTTOMS and SOCKS if it's chilly enough*.

2. What are 3 nice things you can say about your physical appearance/body (These should be real compliments, not criticism veiled as compliments :))I have great calves. Really, I do. They are one of the few areas on my body that survived the recent war on my uterus. I also have great eyes. You can't tell as much now that gravity has had 32 glorious years to work it's magic, but they point up, not out or down like normal eyes do. I like it. Oh, I have to best lips in the whole wide world. I could be a lip-model or a blow-job stunt double. Did I just go too far? Yep, sure did.

3. Who would you rather kiss? Bill Maher or any woman in the world of your choosing?Oh, shit, this is hard. There are a few girls I'd give my left kidney to make out with, but I don't know if I could pass up a chance to kiss Bill Maher. There's something compelling about the cocky, arrogant, famous, small-penis sort of man**. (And, between you & me, he is crude and obnoxious and uncouth, but I think at the heart of it he's really smart and incisive.)

4. Why do you think some guys put truck balls on their trucks? (We're driving through Indiana and are behind a huge orange truck with the balls swinging from the trailer hitch. It's so bizarre.)I truly, with all of my heart, hope to hell they do it to look at the faces of the people in the car behind them. Because honestly, if I thought that there were a group of people in this world that thought that was cool, I just don't think I could go on.

5. From Scout: Bowling: Is it just an excuse for guys to go drink on Friday nights, or is it a legitimate Olympic Sport?Don't you be talking smack about the bowling. If you don't think bowling takes muscles and skill and a vast knowledge of geometry, GO BUY A Wii. Your world will never be the same. And your body will never ache so badly.

*This answer, sadly, give you no clue as to how completely neurotic I am about going to sleep. There can be no lights or noise of any kind, my hair cannot touch my neck or face and has to be tucked in behind my ear on the right side ONLY, my pants legs have to be pulled down to an even and equal length, not too far below or above my ankle. My right arm has to be behind my head until I roll on my tummy, at which time BOTH arms getting crossed under my boobs, left arm on top of right arm always, and the blankets have to be above my shoulders but not touching my chin. You're never going to sleep with me now, are you?

**Yes, I have a crush on Bill Maher. I also have a crush on Drew Carey. Don't you judge me.

Since it is Wednesday, and I tried and failed to take pictures of the body parts laid out in question #2, but now can see lots of lovely spots, I will instead give you a picture of my best friend Jessica (who just went back to Costa Rica yesterday and who happens to be 4 months pregnant now) with me, in Durango, CO, at a wedding, sweating our asses off, a bit drunk and truly, madly, deeply in love.

It's Wednesday. I owe you a picture. This one is of me, very f*#ing pregnant, and my goofball, greaser kids. I post it only because of how big my boobs were in this picture, and we seem to be on boobs this week. Trust me, they needed their own satellite system.